


Are You Lonesome Tonight?

by hotyaoi



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Domestic, Inspired by Music, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Slow Dancing, Song Lyrics, can i get uhhh, i guess this is a song fic, i've honestly played this scenario out in my head for like 3 years so i hope it's Good, this is also my second fic involving dancing alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:01:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotyaoi/pseuds/hotyaoi
Summary: “I know this song.”Steve looks up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “You do?”“Yes. I know this song.” He's frozen in his seat. “How do I know this song?”A blush flares unexpectedly across Steve’s cheeks and nose. “It's, uh. You taught me how to dance to this song when we were sixteen.” Then, softer. “I didn't think you'd remember."--In which a song sparks Bucky's memory over breakfast and Steve teaches him how to dance again.





	Are You Lonesome Tonight?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you were wondering, the song mentioned is Frank Munn's "Are You Lonesome Tonight", one of the big hits of the early 20's. It's so much better than the Elvis version, I highly suggest you listen to it!
> 
> (Originally published May 28, edited June 14 because I'm disorganized)

 

It's 4 AM, and Steve's making pancakes. The kitchen is cast in shadows from a single bulb above him, the light dancing across his face as he hums along to an old record playing in the background.

This is one of the better mornings he’s had in the past week. The quiet hum of the morning is a welcome break from the briefings and meetings at Stark Tower. Steve prefers his own apartment to the modernity of Tony’s place; somehow the creaks and chipped paint make him feel more at home than ever.

“Steve?”

He startles, dropping the spatula as he turns to see Bucky facing him.

“Sorry, I couldn't sleep. Nightmare.”

Bucky nods, but stays still. The record continues playing as they stare at each other.

“You can, uh. Sit down. I’ll make you some if you like.” Steve gestures toward the bare kitchen table with the dirty spatula. “Don't have to though. Just a thought.” He smiles.

There's a look of indecision that flashes across Bucky’s face before he finally paces over to the table. Steve washes the spatula in the sink. “I hope I didn't wake you! I was trying so hard to be quiet.”

Bucky ducks his head and looks down. “No. You didn't.”

“Oh. Okay.” Steve can't bring himself to ask how Bucky slept, choosing to start another batch. “You want any pancakes?”

It's silence but for the radio.

“I don't remember if I like them.”

Steve smiles again. “You definitely do. I remember Ma used to make us the best silver dollar pancakes, and you always tried to take half of mine. Said it was your right as an honorary Rogers.”

Bucky wrings his hands. “I’m sorry, I don't remember. I wish I did.”

“It's okay.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize.”

“Okay.” The record catches and continues to spin despite the album ending. Steve plates the last of the pancakes before moving to turn it over.

“The second side is my favorite part of this one. Always reminds me of the dancehall by our old apartment.” He slides in across from Bucky, taking a few pancakes for himself. The eat in a peaceful silence as the forks click against their plates.

A fast ragtime song ends and fades into a slower number, and suddenly Bucky stops eating his breakfast. “I know this song.”

Steve looks up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “You do?”

“Yes. I know this song.” He's frozen in his seat, plate long forgotten. “How do I know this song?”

A blush flares unexpectedly across Steve’s cheeks and nose. “It's, uh. You taught me how to dance to this song when we were sixteen.” Then, softer. “I didn't think you'd remember.” His eyes are fixed on the ground.

Bucky’s enraptured, eyes wide and taking in Steve’s every move. “Can you show me?”

“What?” Steve’s sharp intake of breath is audible.

“I don't, I mean. I don't know if I’ll ever remember. But I want to see what it was like, back then. Dancing.” He looks so vulnerable for a moment that something inside Steve seems to break. “I'm sorry, forget that I said anything, I’ll just-”

Bucky stands and turns to leave just as Steve grabs him by the arm. “Yes!”

“What?”

“I want to.”

“I'm sorry for bothering you, you don't have to do anything.”

“You taught me how to dance so it's only fair I show you now.” Steve smiles so disarmingly Bucky feels the world come to a stop.

“Okay.”

“Perfect! Uh, let me just start the song over. One second.”

Steve rushes to the record player, going back just until the song starts once again.

He ushers for Bucky to join him in the hardwood living room.

“So, um. Put your hand here,” Bucky places a hand on Steve's own hand, “And then one on my, on my waist.” Steve sucks in a breath. “Really good. So now I put my hand here, and we just kind of step?”

_Are you lonesome tonight?_

Bucky sways unsteadily for a moment and Steve catches him, leaning closer.

_Do you miss me tonight?_

In the dimly lit parlor, Bucky seems to glow. Steve can't look away.

_Are you sorry we drifted apart?_

They're chest to chest, sharing the same air as the music continues to play. “You were such a good teacher, I'm not really doing this any justice.” Steve looks away. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“You’re doing a good job.”

“You don’t have to be nice, Buck.”

_Does your memory stray/To the bight summer day/When I kissed you and called you sweetheart?_

Bucky loops both his arms around Steve’s waist, pulling him even closer than before, and Steve grabs Bucky’s neck in surprise. “Thought it might be easier if we do it this way.”

Steve huffs a laugh against his shoulder. “Might be.”

Bucky takes a cautious step forward, then another, and is suddenly leading the pair.

_Is your heart filled with pain?_

“You remember!” Steve laughs, swept up in the dance as Bucky pulls him across the hardwood floor.

“I guess it’s muscle memory. It feels like I never stopped.” Bucky lifts him off the ground and places him back again, leaving Steve breathless and dizzy.

_Shall I come home again?_

The music quiets as Bucky dips Steve slowly to the ground.

_Tell me, dear; are you lonesome tonight?_

Steve kisses him. Bucky sees stars.

 

 

 


End file.
